


Don't Read This Story

by Original Characters (HMSquared)



Category: markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Ambiguity, Don't Play This Game, Eye Trauma, Glitches, Mark Fischbach Egos, Or do they?, Tags Contain Spoilers, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-04 02:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21189968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HMSquared/pseuds/Original%20Characters
Summary: There is nothing here. Why are you looking?





	Don't Read This Story

When Mark got out the camera and prepared for his most recent video, he had no idea <strike> it would change his life forever. </strike>But then again, how could he have known?

He was playing a game eloquently titled “Don’t Play This Game.” Mark didn’t know anything about it, but it intrigued him. Watching the download bar fill, he grinned. He felt like this was going to go well, confusion or not.

“Hello everybody, my name is Markiplier, and welcome to _ Don’t Play This Game_.” Mark rambled about how he was rebelling, then hit start.

_ You lacked in the fact that I don’t know which for Post-Nomostink. Why don’t you gruel on it? Same folgen as ever. Hock of the table cloth punt. Do you understand me? Nobody does. Listen; there’s a bodgins at the door. Should I garest him? Find me a gromphreal. _

“Okay…” Mark had been trying to listen, words escaping his mouth as the audio played. Random letters and numbers filled the screen. Nothing made sense. “What the ever-loving _ fuck _just happened?” He looked at the camera, half expecting an answer. “I’m listening to it again.”

It didn’t help. Mark listened over and over, jotting down every word he could catch. Half of them were made up; that was the only thing he truly understood. The l̴̯͋a̶͍̓ṣ̶̐t̵̮̂ thing he would ever truly understand.

After half an hour, Mark felt dizzy. There was a soft ringing in his ears, and the headache he’d been experiencing since recording started had finally pushed to the forefront. But he didn’t want to show it; couldn’t let the fans worry.

The scent of blood filled his nostrils. His heart-beat was strange...erratic. Shaking his head to loosen the fuzz in his brain, Mark prepared to listen again.

Except he didn’t listen again. The audio played, and the man in front of the camera spoke...but not really. Staring at the screen, Mark repeated the words with perfect timing, his voice reverberating through the studio. The twin edges of Dark’s aura grasped at his heart, running from something itself. The game was only a coincidence...he was meant to play it. It was not a coincidence.

A harsh humming filled Draco’s ears, startling him awake. Instantly, he knew something was wrong. The others around him were shaking, all in various states of shock. Wilford was clutching at his throat, more of a reflex then anything; Google and Bing were buzzing, electricity coursing through their bodies at a much higher voltage then usual. Bim and Dr. Iplier were coughing up blood; Ed and the King of the Squirrels were feeling a rush of alcohol in their bodies.

The bloody Host got the worst of it. His bandages were collapsing in on himself, squeezing his body and releasing every ounce of hemoglobin he had ever produced. One by one, the egos fell to the floor; fighting the roar in his ears, Draco stumbled down the hall to Mark’s room.

He wasn’t moving. Mark was frozen in place, hands drooped at their sides on the table. The camera had stopped recording and the audio was off; the next few moments would be forever lost.

It happened in a second. As Draco stepped forward to touch Mark’s shoulder, everything collapsed. He could see nothing but blood, feel nothing but pain. He was suffering..._just like the rest of them._

**Author's Note:**

> Look at you; following a trail of breadcrumbs, hoping it will lead you somewhere. I'm disappointed.


End file.
